For years I thought I knew how love would be.
I waited for it, anticipated it.
And even longed for it.

You see, I had this idea.

He was this, and he was that.
He liked this, and he liked that.
And I'd love him, and he'd love me.
And in the end, that's how it would be.

But I was wrong.

First of all, love was a she.

She was...
She liked...

Well, it didn't matter anymore did it?

Love was Love...

...and She was it.

I’m running out of ideas.
They never come to me.
I have to find them.
But they’re all just the same.
                            I don’t need help.
Going from place to place.
I always end up in the same spot.

Writing and writing.
Just to throw it away.

I light a cigarette.
Lean back and relax.

Clear my mind of everything.
But everything's the same.

I have a place for all my ideas.
But there’s nothing for me to find.
                                     It’s broken and old.
I’m left with only one thing on my mind,
And that’s filling up the empty jar I still hold on to.

A little unique thought in your mind,
Can change the world,
The hidden potential you are trying to find,
Can change how clouds twirl,
Rich or poor,
It can change lives,
It is the future,
The greatest,
To solve any dilemma,
All you need,
Is an idea.

Like splitting the atom I
split myself until nothing
remains but the idea
of me in your head.